


Talking Pictures

by sariane



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariane/pseuds/sariane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky go to the movies (together).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> This is an edited version of a prompt fill I did for firefirefire [on tumblr](http://sarriane.tumblr.com/post/97252876680). Steve and Bucky going to the movies together is my secret weakness. :) Enjoy!

As the lights go down and the trailers begin, a hush falls over the darkened movie theater.

Bucky turns towards Steve and elbows him in the side with his metal arm. “I miss the newsreels,” Bucky whispers to him.

“Do you _really_?” Steve asks, giving him the side-eye. “Or do you just miss seeing your big ugly mug up there on the screen?”

“C’mon, Steve, you know you liked ‘em just as much as I did.”

“Better than those dumb movies they made me do.”

“Nah, I liked those. What was that one – Captain America and the Great Bat of –?”

_“Shhhhhh._ ”

The woman sitting below them turns to shush them. Steve shuts his mouth with a guilty look. Bucky catches his eye, holding back a laugh so Steve has to turn his head away to hide his smile.

The movie turns out to be boring as hell (Natasha _did_ warn them that they probably wouldn’t find modern comedies very interesting, but Clint and Sam had said they liked it). Steve's a little disappointed. He'd hoped it would make Bucky laugh.

But Bucky looks half asleep in his chair, one arm slung over the empty seat on his right, the other at Steve's back. Steve watches him out of the corner of his eye. Bucky's head is lolling to the side as he dozes off. Steve sighs and turns back to the movie.

Bucky’s head drops down on Steve’s shoulder.

It takes all of Steve’s reserve not to jump to his feet in surprise. He freezes, barely daring to turn to look at Bucky’s head. He's breathing like he’s fast asleep. _On Steve’s shoulder._

Steve blushes instantly. His neck goes red and he feels his face grow hot. He forces his gaze back to the movie, ignoring his heart jumping in his chest. It's a silly little thing to get excited about, he thinks, deciding to let Bucky sleep. Bucky has rough nights, and barely gets any sleep as it is. Steve would sit here through _another_ boring movie if it meant Bucky actually got some uninterrupted sleep for once.

Steve’s almost forgotten about the weight on his shoulder when he feels Bucky’s breath tickling his neck. Steve swallows. He turns his head as slowly as he can, so he can gaze down at Bucky. He can make out Bucky’s eyelashes in the blue-green light that falls the film projector (or whatever fancy digital gadget they use nowadays), and carves out his cheek and the cleft of his chin in shadows.

Bucky exhales, his hot breath curling over Steve’s jugular. Steve's pulse goes wild.

Steve takes a deep breath, ignoring the heat curling up inside him – half embarrassment, and half bone-deep longing. Bucky’s sparing with his touches, and understandably so. He doesn’t like to sit too close, doesn’t like sharing space or couches or even the back seat of a car. He is _so_ unlike the Bucky that Steve grew up with, who shared beds, floors, and thin sleeping bags. Steve can’t help but miss Bucky’s touch.

“You know something?” Bucky whispers in Steve’s ear.

Steve nearly jumps in his chair when he realizes Bucky isn't asleep. He swallows against a tightness in his throat.

“What, Buck?” Steve asks in a strangled whisper.

“Remember all those times we went to the movies? All those double dates? That time we got caught sneaking in through the fire escape?”

Bucky’s voice is low and deep in Steve’s ear, dark like the shadows of the theater. Steve nods. He remembers. He remembers _everything._

“All those times I sat right next to you, whispering in your ear,” Bucky says, “and all I ever wanted to do was lean over and kiss you while nobody was looking.”

Steve’s heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest.

“Then why don’t you?” he asks.

Bucky leans over the cup holder and pulls Steve into a kiss.

Steve feels as though he barely has enough time to register Bucky's lips on his own, or the warmth of Bucky's cheek under his hand, or the feel of cool metal fingers snaking underneath the hem of his shirt before he's interrupted by a bright light shining in his eyes.

“Excuse me,” an annoyed looking employee says, clearing her throat like she's been there an embarrassingly long amount of time before Steve and Bucky realized. “I’m gonna have to ask you two to leave.”

“Sorry,” Steve says semi-apologetically, but he can’t hide his smile. The two of them slide out of their seats.

Bucky, like the little shit he is, chuckles darkly and says, “That’s alright, I don’t think we were staying much longer, anyways.”

With a grin, he hooks his robotic fingers through the loops on Steve’s jeans and pulls him towards the exit. Bucky shoots him the same look he’d given Steve while they were sneaking up the fire escape, back in 1932.

Steve gives in and laughs.

_Fin._


End file.
